


Snuffles Has The Sniffles

by WolfstarPups90



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comfort, Common Cold, Fluff, M/M, Sirius is a giant baby when he's sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 17:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfstarPups90/pseuds/WolfstarPups90
Summary: Sirius does not handle being sick very well.





	Snuffles Has The Sniffles

It had started with a tickle in the back of his throat on Friday.

He figured it was just from the thin layer of dust that was starting to build up on his desk, which he was perpetually sitting at since Moody had given him all this ruddy paperwork to go through after a mishap that may or may not have been his fault during a raid. 

Being in training bloody sucked that way. Everyone blames you.

By Friday night dinner at James and Lily’s, he couldn’t stop sneezing. 

 “You’re sick, Padfoot.” James smirked, continuing to stir the pot of sauce on the stove. 

“I bloody well am not.” Sniffed Sirius, leaning against the counter and folding his arms. “It’s just alleri- _achoo_!” 

James made a face and covered the open sauce pan. “Oy, explode your germs over that way, I don’t want to catch whatever office plague you’ve gone and contracted.”

 Wiping his nose on his sleeve, Sirius grumbled something more about not having any plague and took a seat at the table instead.

“A little help here!” Peter’s strained voice sounded from the living room before he came stumbling into the kitchen carrying two large cases of firewhiskey. Sirius groaned and stood, needing more effort than he should have, and freed the smaller man of some of the load. “Thanks, mate.” Peter sighed breathlessly. Then he frowned. “You look dreadful, Pads. You sick?” 

 “I am  _not_  sick!” Sirius growled, dropping the case heavily on the table and falling back into his seat with a heavy sigh. “I’m just…tired!” 

Peter and James exchanged knowing looks. Peter chuckled. “If you say so, Padfoot.” 

He hardly touched his dinner, which worried Lily to no end. 

“Do you want something else, Sirius? Why don’t I make you some soup? Honestly, you need to have something in your system if you’re sick-” 

“I’m not-!” 

 “Put it in a Tupperware, Lils.” Remus interrupted just as Sirius held back yet another sneeze. “He’ll want it later.” He handed his boyfriend a handkerchief to blow his nose before patting his leg gently. “Come on, Sirius. Let’s get you home.” 

“I will  _not_  want it later because I’m  _not_  sick and you can all just stop fussing because I am just fine!” Sirius huffed, sinking down in his chair with a pout and hoping no one realized just how breathless his little tantrum had left him. 

He had been right about one thing though, he didn’t want the soup later on. Because he collapsed onto the sofa as soon as he and Remus arrived home, and was snoring in seconds flat. 

By Monday his throat felt like it was made of sand and his eyes kept watering, making it difficult to read the case files that were stacked on his desk. 

 “Go home, Black.” Moody grunted as he passed by around noon. “We don’t need you spreading whatever you’ve got to the rest of the team. Go on now.” 

Sirius groaned and leaned back in his chair only to see James’ smug face over the wall of his cubical. “Told you.” He snickered. 

Sirius sent a hex straight at him. James spent the rest of the day struggling to explain why he could only speak using words that started with the letter P.

His entire body ached when he trudged his way into the flat and shut the door behind him. He kicked off his boots and shed his trousers and shirt on his way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in his wake, and threw himself onto the bed, pulling the heavy comforter around him and curling up with his face buried in Remus’ pillow. He was out like a light. 

He woke up sometime later (Hadn’t it still been light out when he got home?) to familiar lips pressed to his forehead. 

“Uh huh…You’ve got a fever, Padfoot.” He could hear the smile in Remus’ voice. The one he got whenever he proved a point against Sirius’ stubbornness. 

 “Shut up.” Sirius whined, his voice raspy and making his throat itch all the way up to his ears. What was with that? He irritably rubbed his left ear on his shoulder and made a soft sound of distress as it didn’t help in the slightest. 

Remus chuckled lightly, sitting on the edge of the bed and smoothing the other man’s hair from his forehead. “You need to take something for that or it’ll only get worse.” 

“No.” Grumbled Sirius, pulling the blanket over his head. He knew he sounded like a toddler, but he never did handle being sick very well. 

It’s just that it didn’t happen very often. Sirius could probably count on one hand the times he had actually been ill as a child. 

Growing up in The Noble and Most Ancient House Of Black, his mother simply did not have the time, patience or desire to care for a sick child…or a child of any sort for that matter…and Sirius and Regulus were both force-fed vaccinating potions to prevent any sort of illness that could be contracted. They worked, mostly, except that they were utterly vile tasting and young Sirius put up quite the fight each morning, kicking and screaming and punching whichever poor house elf was given the task of administering it. Eventually Walburga, hearing the sounds of the struggle all the way across the large house, would appear and put him in a full body bind so she could force the potion down his throat without a protest.

Once or twice he or Regulus would manage to catch a stray cold or flu, but nothing horrible, and the entire process was pretty much the same: Nasty tasting potion, kicking and screaming child, full body bind, locked in his bedroom for a week as to prevent the spreading of germs and keep him out of her way.

He had a nasty bug in sixth year after a full moon. It had been pouring rain and he and Moony, despite the better judgement of Prongs and Wormtail, had been rolling around in cold muddy puddles all night. Remus was just fine the next day, but Sirius sniffled and sneezed in the hospital wing for a week, stubbornly refusing any healing potions and flinching when Pomfrey raised her wand (”I’m only putting a warming charm on the blankets, Mr. Black.”).

And now this. This sneezey, scratchy, achy awful plague that he couldn’t deny any longer. He didn’t like it at all. 

“Moony…” He whimpered between sniffles. 

 “Yes, love?” Remus replied, reappearing in the doorway of the bedroom with the first aid. 

Sirius wiggled a bit, poking his head out of his blanket cocoon. “Take care of me.” He pouted, looking up at his boyfriend with watery, bloodshot puppy eyes. Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head.

 “Well I certainly am going to try, Sirius.” He sighed and sat on the bed once more. “You aren’t the most complaint patient, you know.” He smiled fondly, despite his words. “Can you sit up?” 

Sirius eyed him warily. “Why?”

Remus gave him a warning look as he uncorked a small potion bottle and Sirius quickly covered his head again. 

“Isn’t there another way?” He half sobbed. 

“There isn’t. Come on, Sirius. It’s not so bad. It’s a children’s cough potion. It tastes like cherries for Merlin’s sake.”

“That is a load of dragon dung, Remus Lupin! No cherries taste like that! Cherries are lovely. That tastes like the devil’s arse and gasoline!”

He heard Remus snort and the weight of his body lifted off the bed. Sirius’ head emerged from the blankets once again. “Where are you going!” 

The taller man sighed, looking annoyed. “I’m not going to fight you to take your medicine, Sirius. So either act like an adult, since that’s what you  _are,_ or suffer on your own. But I’ll be sleeping at James and Lily’s. I’m not sharing a bed with you and risking my own health. I haven’t got enough sick days at work for the moon, let alone your flu.” 

“Nooooo!” Sirius whined, sitting up and reaching for the other man like a desperate child. “Don’t leave me alone when I’m all sick and dying!”

“Oh please.” Remus scoffed. “You aren’t dying, you drama queen. You’ve got the sniffles.”

“People have died from the sniffles.” Sniffed Sirius pathetically. 

“Not since the 1600′s, love. At the very least.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down for the third time beside his pouty, feverish lover. “If you can down 10 shots of firewhiskey in under 30 seconds, which I’ve seen you do, you can handle a teaspoon of cough syrup that’s made for six year olds and mostly sugar and artificial flavoring.” He shook the little bottle in front of Sirius’ face. “If you take this for me, I’ll make you some hot chocolate and we’ll pile the blankets on the sofa and watch something on the telly, alright?” 

Sirius chewed his bottom lip, considering the offer. He made an unsure sound, still staring at the potion bottle fearfully. 

Remus hummed thoughtfully, shifting so he was completely on the bed and pulling the smaller man, blanket coccoon and all, into his lap. “I’ll draw you a bath…” He offered. Seeing Sirius starting to give in, he smiled and nuzzled the spot behind his ear. “I’ll get in the bath  _with_  you…” 

Sirius perked up a little. “Will you?” 

Remus shrugged. “Suppose you’ll have to find out, won’t you?” He poured the potion into a spoon. “Come on, Padfoot. You’re twenty years old. I’m not going to baby you.” 

“You sort of are already, don’t you think?” 

“In a minute I’m apparating to James’ and leaving you here to sniffle to death.” 

“REMUS THAT’S NOT F-MMM!” Sirius’ eyes nearly popped out of his head as Remus slipped the spoon passed his lips.

 “Swallow.” Remus smirked, looking rather pleased with himself. Sirius glared and swallowed the thick too-sweet liquid that most certainly did not taste like any cherries he had ever eaten. He pulled away and made a disgusted face. 

 “Bleh!” 

Remus chuckled, re-corking the bottle and putting it back in the first aid kit. “Oh stop. It’s not so bad.” He kissed Sirius’ pouting lips. “Go get yourself set up on the couch, then. I’ll bring you some cocoa.” 

Sirius whined and snuggled against his chest. “Carry me.” 

“You’re pushing it.” Remus refused flatly, gently shoving him off his lap. “Go on.” 

Sirius grumbled, rolling off the bed with the blankets still wrapped tightly around him. “Fine.” He muttered, shuffling out of the bedroom. “But you owe me a sexy bath!” 

Remus sighed and rolled his eyes, heading to the bathroom to put the healing potions away. He heated up some of Lily’s soup she had sent them home with and poured Sirius some juice, magicking the tray to follow him into the living room. 

Sirius was curled up on the couch, snoring. 


End file.
